


Never Enough

by Sar_Kalu



Series: Holtzbert Smut 'Verse - NSFW [2]
Category: Ghostbusters (2016), Ghostbusters - All Media Types
Genre: Erin just cannot deal, Erin's just really fucking horny, F/F, PWP, also there is excessive swearing, and Jillian keeps dancing, and Kevin's really cute, and this is aggressively bisexual, and what the fuck, because that's what it means to be fucking bisexual, bisexual as fuck, but actually properly aggressively bisexual, but thats what tags are for right?, enjoy, i mean an Australian wrote this and as far as I'm concerned fuck is just punctuation, i really hope you do, in equal measure, lesbians consider yourself warned, like i said, like there is literally no plot here, not that bullshit that you see in the media, oh!, please, so there is some hetero and homo pining, you may want to skip the first quarter of this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 04:42:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9584057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sar_Kalu/pseuds/Sar_Kalu
Summary: Erin's super fucking horny and super fucking bisexual - a oneshot smutsploration





	

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE NOTE:
> 
> When I say this is aggressively bisexual, I fucking mean it. 
> 
> If you want lesbian feels but no Kevin, skip about a quarter down the story to the first mention of Abby - you will be clean and clear of all hetero sexualisation - you're welcome.
> 
> \- your phenomenally pansexual author

The problem, Erin is coming to realise, is the once you have fucked someone and you know what they look like, how they sound, what they taste like under their clothes and in between the sheets of your bed, is that it was suddenly incredibly hard to see them in any other kind of way.

Particularly when it is Jillian Holtzmann...

Because… oh my fucking god… Erin can remember everything about those fingers tracing her slit… the way those fingers had sunk into her tight heat… the way those slender fingers with their trimmed, blunt nails had curved against her and crooked slightly, as though catching on a string deep inside her and pulling her orgasm out into the light of day… and fuck… but Erin hasn’t forgotten anything…

Jillian… flat on her back… dress rucked up around her waist… Erin’s head between her legs… the noises… the tightening of her hand in Erin’s long hair… her fucking scent… that tangy, spicy taste that rolled across her tongue…

Erin’s eyes roll back a little just thinking about it…

That’s not to say that Erin didn’t still have a thing for Kevin, because she did. Oh god did she ever…

Kevin, with his broad shoulders, his large hands, his big… _feet_ …

Kevin, who she frequently imagined wrapping her long legs around his trim, muscular waist and rubbing her pussy against his cock…

Kevin, with his big, strong shoulders and his big strong arms, caging her in on her bed, smelling of musk and man and that sandalwood cologne that he wore…

Kevin, leaving beard rash over her flushed cheeks, her bared neck, her aching breasts, her twitching thighs…

Erin could almost feel the way his fingers would slide deep inside her… the sight of him reared up on his knees above her with his chiselled six-pack and his cock standing proud and tall between his legs…

And fuck… Erin wanted that too… but as pretty as Kevin was… as good as Erin imagined he would be a sex…

Erin knew….

Fuck, did Erin know… _Erin goddamn fucking knew_ … like she knew physics… like she knew mathematics… like she knew ghosts and busting and her own right hand and the feel of it against her twitching clit…

That Jillian would be better…. _was_ better… would _always_ be better…

Because, and Erin knew this was sexist, but fuck, she is a raging bisexual with experience in men and women both, and she fucking knew… in ways that most other people never would… that women were so much better in bed than men…

There was that familiarity in feeling their hands move across her body…

That there was similarity in the way they moved, the way they smelled, the way they touched…

That there was a deep personal knowledge that only a woman could have of another woman’s body… because they had that same body… the nerve endings might be different… the way they twisted their fingers inside might be strange… the way they curled their tongue against your clit might be foreign… but women knew other women.

That’s not to say that Erin hasn’t had bad lesbian sex before. She has. But even bad lesbian sex was miles better than good heterosexual sex…

Frankly, for Erin, it had more to do with that women tasted so much better than men. They way they smelled… the way they were soft and smooth and the way she could feel their muscles beneath their satin skin… the way they would arch back into pillows and blankets, legs wide open, their pussy right there for the taking… and the way they gasped… just so… when she drank them in and they _s.p.i.l.l.e.d_ _down her chin_ …

And, fuck, Erin can feel her core clenching tightly just thinking about it.

Men are musk and sweat and a furnace of desire that takes and takes and gives and gives until she can’t walk in the morning and fuck if that isn’t the goddamn best feeling of being split in two on a hard cock with a hot man moving above her, under her, behind her, beside her… and the way he’s kissing her and sliding his hands everywhere over her… and Erin’s breathing stutters at the thought… glancing at Kevin quickly before refocusing on her notebook once more…

Fuck, Erin thinks… she needs to get a grip… and then Jillian changes the song and it’s _Closer_ by Nine Inch Nails… and the words start and fucking, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…

Women… oh my fucking god… women… with those rolling, swinging hips… and those high, tight breasts… and those flaring fingers… and those long, loose curls… and fucking, fuckity fuck… Erin’s back where she had been a week ago with Jillian flat on her back making little cries of desperation before she’d come with a silent scream and fucking hell… Erin knows that her preference for Jillian can be traced back to that moment in the dark of the Fire Station on the second floor but holy fuck, Jillian had tasted so fucking good… and there’s a fire in her veins and she can feel her mouth drying out and Jillian is fucking dancing and _fuck, fuck, fuck._

Erin’s breaths are closer to pants now, she’s trembling a little, having trouble restraining herself because grabbing Jillian and slamming her onto Erin’s desk chair and ripping her pants off and sucking her hard and deep into Erin’s mouth would not be a good idea... no matter how much Erin want’s this…

This is not going away. This is not getting better. Erin is so fucking turned on and she’s doing a samba in her chair and there is no friction to be found in the slip and slide of her jeans over leather. And Erin’s dying just a little inside.

Because it’s not enough.

Not nearly enough.

Kevin is standing in the doorway, he’s holding a hammer clueless and Jillian is laughing as she steps to the beat of Joan Jett’s _Crimson and Clover_ and Erin thinks that there might be some kind of metaphor in a card-carrying lesbian dancing to the queen of lesbian rock…

But Erin’s head is swimming with lust too much to find it…

She can’t sit still any longer… fuck her, but this is too much… she’s breathing a little too heavy to be normal and now she’s pacing back and forth in front of her white board like some kind of caged animal…

Erin’s so absorbed by the heavy heat in the cradle of her pelvis, the languid energy flowing through her long limbs, the hot breath that escapes through partially opened lips, that she doesn’t hear Abby arrive, she doesn’t hear Abby speak…

She does feel Abby grab her elbow and stop her from pacing with wide, concerned brown eyes and Erin’s a little startled by her oldest friends sudden appearance.

“Abby!” Erin can feel red creep up her neck and pool in her cheeks and she kind of wants to run and hide. Abby’s eyes are a little too curious for her tastes. “What do you want?”

Erin knows she sounds short and abrupt but she’s ruined her underwear, there’s a swimming pool of desire caught between the cotton of her panties and the slippery folds of her pussy and Erin can feel it with every single steps she takes and fire licks at her insides and Erin kind of wants to scream for everyone but Jillian to leave.

And Abby’s smiling, clearly thinking Erin’s caught on a mathematical problem, because this is frustration and frustration – no matter its origin, sexual or work – looks the same. Erin cannot let her know. Fuck.

“I was just wondering if you’d finished that new theory you were working on,” Abby says cheerfully and her smile and her dimples are too reminiscent of Jillian’s right now for Erin not to avoid her eyes, her face, lest she do something really stupid. “It has so much potential.”

Abby was babbling on like Erin actually cared about mathematics and physics right now with Jillian dancing on the spot at her desk as she riveted two sheets of metal together, soldering the edges and fucking hell, if that cute little ass didn’t just move delightfully under those baggy pants and fuck, Erin wants a double handful to grab while she devours Jillian’s mouth…

“Erin?” Abby’s voice cuts through Erin’s musings and the brunette woman flinches violently at the sound, having forgotten she was doing anything but watching Jillian fucking Holtzmann dance on the spot and wishing she was being given a special viewing – just for her – instead…

“Yes?” Erin’s polite and attentive as she turns to Abby, smiling just a little distantly as if distracted – which she is – by something important, like her job – which she isn’t – and Abby’s disturbing her thoughts – she really fucking is, what the fuck? – and Erin’s being way too polite to ask her to leave.

Abby blinks in surprise, clearly not expecting Erin’s distance, no matter how polite, because Erin loves her job, she loves her work, and Erin can always, always be counted on to be willing to discuss her ideas…

“Are you okay?” Abby’s question is hesitant, confused…

“Fine,” Erin is abrupt, indifferent. “Sorry,” she immediately apologises to Abby, guilty at her tone of voice, “I’m a little distracted.”

Abby turns to look where Erin had been, spotting Kevin nailing up a photograph of him and the four Ghostbusters in their uniforms on the wall. “ _By Kevin?_!” Abby is scandalised again by the thought of finding Kevin attractive.

Erin’s lips thin, amused, and she gives a non-committal hum in reply. “ _Something_ like that,” she replies almost lightly, and the heat in her belly flares a little higher as Jillian clasps her hands above her head and arches into a long, single line and stretches before relaxing and letting out a deep sigh of relief…

It’s so fucking similar to that contented sigh she makes after cumming… and Erin almost groans at the thought… her eyes closing tightly and her head tips back a little. Fucking hell. She was going to fucking hell and she was okay with that because fuck, what a way to go…

Abby’s peering at her in concern when Erin’s eyes open once again and she meets Abby’s steady dark gaze, “you don’t look so good, Erin,” she says gently, “have you eaten today?”

And Erin’s shaking her head before she can truly register the question as one she doesn’t want to answer. It’s too late though, the damage is done, and Abby is leading her down the stairs by her elbow.

“No wonder you’re so frustrated, you’ve not eaten anything all day!” Abby was saying, “and I bet you’ve had nothing to drink either! That’s not good for you, Erin, Patty’s right, low blood sugar is a very serious issue…”

But Erin’s not paying attention to what Abby’s saying about low blood pressure, because Abby’s right… Erin hasn’t _eaten_ anything… not for a week… and she hasn’t _drunk_ anything in that long too…

At least, _nothing_ _she wants to eat or drink_ …

Fuck.

Erin’s eyes close again as she’s sat down at the kitchen table and Abby rummages through the fridge. Erin listens almost absentmindedly as Abby mutters on about left over Chinese and unclean fridges and the pigs they live with and _why are Kevin’s socks in the ice-box?!_

Erin’s phone pings.

Erin frowns. Everyone she texts is in today.

She slides her thumb across the glass screen, not reading the message on the lock screen, loading it instead in her messages…

It’s from Jillian…

Fucking hell…

Holtz: _saw you watching me, baby, you really that hungry?_

Erin’s eyes shut and she inaudibly whimpers, her hands tightening around the plastic phone case as desire lances through her body almost painfully and her core clenches.

Jillian had noticed her staring. Of course she had. Fuck.

Fuck!

Erin’s finger tap out a reply almost without her truly thinking about what she was going to say.

Erin: _starving_.

Erin: _thirsty too_.

Erin: _how about you? Should I bring something up to *eat*, babe? ;)_

There was a clatter from upstairs and a muffled curse followed by the scrap of metal across wood and footsteps darting backwards and forwards across the floor. Erin smirks at the sounds, wondering who was running around and what Jillian has set on fire now. She places her phone face down on the table and relaxes back into her seat, a little smug from what she’d just heard upstairs.

Abby is looking at her suspiciously, like she knows what’s going on but has no proof. “Why are you smirking?”

Erin cocks an eyebrow, unashamed and a little proud, “no reason,” she lies easily.

Abby frowns disbelievingly. “Sure,” she says and she sets a sandwich in front of Erin a little too hard, the ceramic clattering against the hard wood and making Erin flinch at the noise. “Eat,” Abby tells her firmly, “you’ll feel better. You’re not you when you’re hungry.”

Erin snorts faintly but does as she’s told, smirking widely as her phone vibrates and dings multiple times over. Abby shoots the phone a long considering look before leaving Erin in the empty kitchen, knowing better than to try and engage Erin in conversation when she’s this distracted.

Erin unlocks her screen and breathes in sharply at the message waiting for her. Desire licks along her skin and she desperately wishes it was Jillian instead. The blonde engineer was going to kill her. She was dying, - slowly, deliciously…

Holtz: _hey baby, remember last week, when you were hot and tight on my fingers?_

Holtz: _because I do_

Holtz: _and I cum each night when I think of you_

Holtz: _and baby, you would not believe how wet I am for you_

Holtz: _fuck, I can’t stop thinking of you and your mouth and your fingers and fuck, Erin, I'm dying.. I need a doctor_

Erin draws in a deep shuddering breath, stunned by how quickly that escalated and she rolls her hips down onto the hard wood of her chair and feels her clit barely brush against it…

And it’s not enough… fuck… it will never be enough…

Erin: _ffucc…_

Erin: _Holtzy, darling, I need your fingers in me_  

Erin: _your mouth on me_

Erin: _I want you so bad right now… I’m so fucking wet, lover… you have no idea_

The bang upstairs that followed Erin’s messages made the physicist smirk smugly and she arched her back enough that her clit pressed into the chair and her belly pressed against the edge of the table, if Erin focussed enough, she could almost feel Jillian pressed up against her, fingers deep in her pussy, the burn of her scissoring fingers as they stretched her wide enough for a third…

“Fuck,” Erin breathes just loud enough to be audible in the empty kitchen, and she drops her head forwards to rest her forehead against the cool wood of the dining table. “Fuck,” Erin repeats herself.

Her phone vibrates just as Kevin comes clattering down the stairs.

“Holtzmann is working on something nutty and dangerous, no one but Erin is allowed up, as long as Erin promises to stay at her desk?” Kevin asks more than he says, his voice is questioning, like he doesn’t really understand, and Erin has the vague feeling that Kevin has no fucking clue.

Erin checks her messages and flushes deeply as she reads the text and then scans the slightly blurry photograph.

_Fuck, yes._

Holtz: _come and get me baby, I'm waiting for you_

Erin’s eyes are blown wide and the sight of Jillian’s hand disappeared in her pants, the front bulging out enough for Erin to know that Jillian is playing with her clit.

Jillian is _touching_ herself.

Jillian is _alone_ in the lab… _and Jillian is touching herself…_

Erin stands up abruptly, her movements jerky and frantic in her desperation to get upstairs and Abby’s shout of, “you haven’t even eaten your sandwich, Erin,” is ignored in favour of _Jillian, who is upstairs, right at this minute, with her hand down her pants, fucking touching herself!!!_

Erin bursts into the lab, much as Jillian had almost a week ago, and slams the door shut, locking it soundly. Erin slows, spinning around and pinning Jillian with intense green eyes.

Jillian is leaning against her desk, her hand down her pants, and her face is flushed red and her bright blue eyes blown black with desire and lust…

Erin licks her lips and prowls forwards.

Jillian’s breath stutters in her chest and her hand stills.

Erin crosses the floor swiftly and soundlessly, eyes fixed on Jillian and her still hand.

Jillian’s eyes flutter shut and she trembles a little in anticipation.

Erin comes to a stop in front of Jillian and gently extracts Jillian’s hands from her pants and pulls Jillian’s long, nimble fingers that she has been fantasising about for days now into the hot cavern of her mouth.

Jillian _w.h.i.m.p.e.r.s_.

Erin licks Jillian’s fingers clean, sliding her tongue beteen them and wriggling it slightly, collecting _every last drop_.

Jillian’s mouth drops open and her head drops back.

That’s all the invitation Erin needs… Erin lunges forwards and grips the back of Jillian’s neck and presses long, hot kisses to the swoop of that ivory column and very carefully doesn’t bruise it. After all, where’s the fun in the others knowing exactly what happens between them?

Jillian’s moan is drawn out and throaty, her hips bucking into Erin’s thighs and Erin drops a hand to pin them in place because she’s busy and Jillian can wait a little bit longer. This is Erin’s moment and she has every intention in enjoying herself… in _devouring_ Jillian… in _savouring_ her…

Jillian will cum.

Just… not… quite… immediately…

Jillian’s whimpers and moans only spur Erin on, because Erin is damned to fucking certain that she has never heard anything quite so good before…

No music could compare…

Erin drops her hand from Jillian’s neck and curves it over Jillian’s solar plexus down to cup her breast… it’s so full… so warm… and Erin’s hand flexes over Jillian’s breast and she hums her pleasure into Jillian’s flushed, damp neck and Jillian drops her head fully back and exposes her throat to the sky.

“Fuuuuhuuuck, _E.r.i.n_ ,” Jillian gasps out, and Erin smiles into Jillian’s skin, breathing her in and pinches Jillian’s nipple through her shirt and bra and grins at the little squeak Jillian gives in return.

Erin runs her hand, that had originally pinned Jillian’s hips in place, up and down Jillian’s side, over the soft cotton of her shit, beneath to the silken warm skin below, and then back over the soft cotton before catching the edge and pulling it up and over Jillian’s head.

Erin’s eyes widen… _no bra_ … Jillian wasn’t wearing a fucking bra… no wonder her dancing had been… _so bouncy…_

Erin smirks at the thought, cupping both breasts in her hands and running her thumbs over the pert, tight nipples and gently pinching them and rolling them between her thumbs and the sides of her index fingers while softly massaging the full weight of each breast.

If there is one thing Erin could admit to, it was that she is a complete and utter breast woman… size didn’t matter, not really… just the little squeaks and sighs that every tug, every rolls, every suck at the nipple could elicit…

And Jillian is vocal…

_Very vocal_

Erin can barely concentrate through the haze of her own personal need, but Jillian is so warm, so spread out on the edge of her desk that Erin is able to focus just enough to untie Jillian’s fisherman pants and smirk as the loose fabric falls to the floor and pool around Jillian’s ankles like a brown puddle.

“Better?” Erin queries with just enough cheek that Jillian opens her eyes to blink at her in confusion.

“Better?” Jillian asks, not really functioning at her best right at that moment.

Erin smirks as she rests her hands on Jillian’s hips and presses her up onto the edge of the desk so Jillian is sitting, more than resting, against the wooden desk.

Jillian stares at her in befuddlement, not really understanding where this is going, too turned on and horny to actually think straight…

Erin’s smirk turns feral as she drops to her knees in front of Jillian and hooks her fingers into the waistband of Jillian’s panties and drags them down the smooth expanse of smooth white legs that seem to go on for miles…

It’s enough to make Erin swoon…

Yeah… Erin is a total leg woman too; she can admit that freely… particularly when they were Jillian’s legs spread wide for her…

Jillian’s breathing stuttered further as Erin brings her soaking panties up to her nose and dragged Jillian’s aroused scent into her lungs… Erin’s eyes roll back into her head and her mouth drops open and her mouth waters at the thought that soon… soon… her mouth will be on Jillian… her tongue maybe even a little inside her… and that taste that Erin has been dreaming about… that sweet, tangy, lovely tasty will be rolling across her tongue like honey…

Erin drops Jillian’s panties into her pocket and run’s both hands from Jillian’s ankles up to her knees and back down. She’s thankful for the soft fabric of Jillian’s fisherman’s pants beneath her knees, because the floor is particularly unforgiving, but Erin knows this will be worth it.

_Fuck, she so thirsty…_

Erin presses a single kiss to the inside of Jillian’s right knee, unsurprised by the dimple found in the hollow of her kneecap, and runs her nose along the inside of Jillian’s leg until she reaches the apex of Jillian’s spread thighs…

Erin rests her forehead against the smooth skin of Jillian’s belly, smiling as Jillian threads a hand though her hair, pulling it up and back so her view, her way, is unobstructed…

Erin’s eyes flutter shut as she breathes in deeply… _fuck_ … Jillian smells so good… there is no comparison…

Nothing smells better than an aroused woman in Erin’s opinion… and Jillian is no exception.

“Hold on, baby,” Erin’s whisper is barely loud enough for Jillian to hear, but hear she does, and Jillian drops her right hand to clutch at the edge of the table, her left tightens in Erin’s hair to the point of pain while pushing her face down and pulling her in, and her toes, her beautiful, painted toes are curled in tight and the muscles in her thighs jump and twitch beneath her skin and all Erin’s done is breathe against her…

Erin smirks one last time, anticipation curling deep in her belly, and she breathes out, hot and hard right across Jillian’s already sensitive clit. Jillian jumps a little and whimpers. The dam of concentration and restraint within Erin breaks and Erin darts forwards, licking one long, messy stripe from Jillian’s perineum up and over her entrance and clit to the very beginning over her slit.

Erin’s eyes roll back in her head and then… she’s gone…

Erin’s hands grip Jillian’s thighs and drape them over her shoulders as she straightens up a little, knocking Jillian backwards so her hips are tilted up and she’s propped on her elbows watching Erin work her up with her tongue with her arms wrapped around Jillian’s hips, pinning her in place…

“Oh… _fuck_ …” Jillian’s exclamation is loud in the lab where the containment units hum at a low, constant frequency in the background.

Erin’s rhythm is slow at first, it always is, savouring and delighted in equal parts. But then it speeds up, because Erin, - for all that she is an internationally renowned scientist with awards and accolades to her name in an area, which requires patience, - is not actually a particularly patient person.

And the sounds that Jillian’s making, pornographic and loud, do not encourage Erin’s patience in the slightest.

Circling Jillian’s clit at first, Erin hugs Jillian’s hips to her face and nestles her nose into the neatly trimmed fuzz at the apex of her legs, ne hand gently stroking through it absently, a gesture of affection in an otherwise determined extraction of le petit mort.

Jillian’s back bends and bows as her hips try to roll and buck with every swipe of Erin’s flexible tongue, but Erin is determined, and Jillian’s movements still as Erin once again fuses her lips in a circle around her clit and sucks hard and fast – and Jillian could almost swear that she’s being drunk in, because she can _feel_ Erin’s jaw work a little and the occasional flutter of Erin’s tongue over her otherwise untouched clit, sends her into spasms of pleasure that shockwave over and down her body.

Jillian is strung out tight over the table as she crashes through her orgasm, mouth open in a silent scream, tendons standing out in her neck like cords.

“Fuck,” Jillian rasps when she finally recovers enough to vocalise again, “fuck, Erin, what the fuck? Where did that come from? Fucking hell… what the hell?”

Erin smirks at Jillian’s dazed incoherence and slowly stands, wincing at the pull of her thigh muscles and the creak of her knees. She’s not as young as she used to be, but that had been worth every ache and pain that is bound to follow her through the next few days.

Erin bends over Jillian, the palms of her hands pressed to the wood of the desk on either side of Jillian’s head, and smirks down at the slowly blinking and blissed out blonde engineer.

“Paybacks a bitch,” she tells her and licks her lips slightly, “five days, Jillian,” Erin adds quietly but firmly, “I have been horny and wanting for five days… but no, you had to build three new proton packs, a new containment unit, and design a new generator…”

Jillian blinks rapidly, her confusion clearing up into a sheepish kind of apology. “Oh,” she squeaks, high pitched and a little turned on, even though she’d just come ridiculously hard not moments before.

Erin’s lips thin and her eyes narrow, “never again, _comprendes_?”

And Jillian wondered why it was, that just as Erin was being sexy and threatening about being blue balled for almost an entire week, that Erin finally used Spanish correctly…

**Author's Note:**

> R&R?
> 
> Thanks, lovelies! 
> 
> Xan


End file.
